Page 6 of Status Undefined
“Good, right?”
“It’s ok.” I didn’t want to stroke his Starbucks ego too much.
“It’s more than ok. It’s fantastic!” It was good, but fantastic was over the top. I rolled my eyes and pushed the cup back towards him. He put his hand over mine before I could take it back. Something inside me did a backflip.
“You’re cute when you try to hide what you’re thinking, but you’re as transparent as a Thai jellyfish.”
I hoped he was referring to my thoughts about the coffee – not something else.
“Did you just call me a jellyfish?” I pulled my hand away a little too abruptly and nearly spilled the coffee.
“I called you cute as a transparent jellyfish.”
“Transparent jellyfish are cute? They’re deadly!”
“Have you ever seen one? They’re the cutest.”
In a split second he was showing me a clip of swimming transparent jellyfish on his phone.
Seemed like he really did think they were cute and was waiting for me to agree with him. I would have rolled my eyes for the tenth time, but I was afraid they’d get stuck in that position.
“It would actually be nice to be a transparent jellyfish. I could be deadly to annoying people or just invisible when I didn’t feel like… like being seen.”
Daniel looked at me open-mouthed. “I think you’re missing the meaning of life. If you aren’t visible, you don’t exist.”
“Sounds like Instagram philosophy. I don’t think you’d understand.”
“Maybe I understand more than you think I do.”
I looked at him. What did he mean?
“I’m not in the mood for a philosophical discussion,” I said eventually. Strange. It seems like it should be easier to open up to a stranger you don’t expect to see ever again, but I don’t feel like revealing too much because I want to make a good impression. He saw I was serious and didn’t push it.
I changed the subject. “How long are you staying in Phuket?”
“I’m not the type who stays anywhere for long. I like moving around and checking off the places I’ve been. It feels good. I get judged a lot for not being present, not experiencing reality deeply, not committing to anything. But it’s not like that at all. I try to experience every moment in every place fully, no reservations, because I know it’s fleeting.”
He hadn’t answered the question directly, but he’d let me know that he wasn’t afraid, like I was, to reveal something deeply personal. He was clearly a skilled conversationalist, but I could see through the slick words. It’s my job after all.
“You didn’t say when you’ll be leaving.”
“Right,” Daniel said with a smile.
“Do you even know?”
“I just like to keep my departure date flexible in case something makes me want to stay longer.” Did he blush or was I imagining it? Hard to tell since he was popping a piece of red macaron into his mouth.
December 3
(visa expires in 42 days)
I helped him call a taxi, introducing him to a better app than the one he’d been using. We hugged goodbye. I’d enjoyed myself more than I expected to, but we hadn’t planned to meet again. I told myself I had probably just been keeping him company in Starbucks until he was off to his next destination. And even if we had wanted to see each other again, we hadn’t exchanged phone numbers (I had zero intention of contacting him through Instagram like some pathetic fan).
Oh well. At least I could make Keren jealous. I smiled to myself. My pocket vibrated and I pulled out my phone to see if it was something important. There was a WhatsApp message from an unknown number. It said:
“first date. Daniel.”
But how? I am such an idiot! He had asked for my number to put into the taxi app because he’d “forgotten” the number of his Thai SIM card. I’d fallen for it. I wouldn’t let that happen again.
